The Explination
by swimmerreader
Summary: When Katniss explains to her daughter about what she and Peeta went through, she leaves out a very important detail. Will this come back to haunt her? How will her daughter react? Peeta?
1. Chapter 1

Prim's POV

We played in the Meadow, my brother and I. As I'm chased by my brother across the field of flowers, I notice as I often do, my mother peaking at us through the window. And, as is usual, she wears an expression somewhere between sorrow, grief and triumph. I stopped, and Gale runs smack into me. We tumble and one of his stubby toddler legs has somehow ended up behind my neck.

"Ouch, Prim! What did you do that for?"

I don't answer; he's too young to join me on my suddenly determined quest.

" Where's Dad?"

"At the bakery I think. Why?"

"Oh! Uhhhh…. I wanted to know if he was almost done with his painting, would you mind running down there and asking him?"

"Sure! Maybe I can get him to bring home some cheese buns! I love those."

And he was off, his golden hair swinging with each stride he took. I let out a sigh. Maybe it would be best if he got some cheese buns. I didn't know what the answer to my question would be. But I figured it wouldn't be a bad thing to have around some of Mother's favorite comfort food.

As I walk into our home, the very first thing I see is my Mother, eyes flickering quickly across a page in her book. The only thing I know about this book is that my mother and dad wrote it when they were young. Gale and I weren't allowed to touch it.

I let go of the front door, letting it slam behind me. Mother quickly drops her book, as if its burst into flames. I stroll towards her, pretending I don't notice. Without an introduction I slowly sit down on the sofa next to her. We sit there for a few minutes, not speaking. I don't know how to begin. Luckily, it seems I don't have to.

"You saw me watching you today didn't you?"

"Yes." I say.

"How old are you?"

I'm taken by surprise. Surely she knows how old I am? Shouldn't parents keep track of these kinds of things?

"Twelve," I reply. "Why?"

She doesn't say a thing, but responds to my answer with a sharp intake of breath.

"That's how old my sister was. When she was drawn in the reaping."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry I haven't updated in like, forever. But no one was reviewing so I thought it sucked and it gave me the worst writers block I've ever had. Thanks go out to Macey247 for taking the time to write that word that made my day and cleared my disease. So I'll shut up and y'all read review and enjoy!**

**Prim's POV**

"The reaping? You mean from like the old Hunger Games, right?"

"Yes. I told you about what they were right?"

"Yeah, the twenty four tributes, twenty three die, practically no one from District 12 won."

"Right." I know my mother well enough that I can tell from her tone that she's about to tell me something that she's kept hidden from me a long while.

I try to ease her into talking. "So… Is that how Aunt Prim… passed?"

"No! Well, yes. Sort of."

"Wait, so did she win her Hunger Games or not?"

My mother's answer is almost inaudible. "My sister was never in the Hunger Games. I was."

Shock. That's the first thing that I register. My mother and father made it very clear that the Hunger Games were nothing more than killing games, and those who came out were nothing more than a heap of scars and crazy, usually lapsing back into some form of unhealthy escape. I look at my mother, her glowing olive skin, bright black hair, and intelligent yet sorrowful eyes. Nothing ominous enough to suggest that she once murdered innocent children. So I didn't believe it.

"No you didn't! You're not awful! And you're not dead!"

"You're right. I'm not dead, and I'm not so awful anymore. But you need to hear the real story now, Prim."

"But, but, wait… if you were awful, why did dad marry you?" I regret the question the second it comes out. It suggests that I don't think she's worthy of my father, which isn't true. They're perfect for each other.

But she just smiles at me, knowing what I meant. "Well, Peeta was always one to look to the core of you, underneath all the snarls up top. Also, he was in the games with me."

The next morning, after a breakfast of the last of the cheese buns, I try to decide if I should paint or hunt today. I am working on an excellent piece right now that resembled the Meadow in front of our house. The grasses were of such a lush combination of greens that I felt that I could reach right into it and smell the stench of spring. On the other hand, there was so much going through my head right now that if I tried to paint, I'd probably portray what I thought my parents arena looked like. My mother had told me nothing once she let go that she and her husband fought side by side, for my dad had chosen _that_ moment to come home with Gale.

Sighing, I turned to put away the last of my bun, my appetite gone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sheet of paper lying on the counter top of our grand house. I picked it up, it read:

_Prim:_

_I'll be fishing at the lake all day if you'd like to know more. If not, would you go ahead and make the breading so we can fry the fish tonight?_

_Always,_

_Mother_

I guess I was hunting today.

**Ok so I was kinda proud of this one but I'm really new at this so let me know what you thought! No flames please! Constructive criticism appreciated.**

**Peace! Swimmerreader**


	3. Chapter 3

**Please, don't kill me. I know it's been like months since I've last updated, but please try to understand this. High school sucks. Lame excuse I know but school is school and there fore it sucks so, what is a girl to do? Anyways, writers block again (I think it may be a terminal form of the disease) but here's the new chappie! Enjoy!**

Katniss' PTV

Five hundred and seventy two steps into my pacing exercise, I wonder if it's worth waiting for Prim any longer. After all, I did offer her the chance to hear my story, she didn't have to. But there was something about her, I thought as I took my fifth hundred and seventy ninth step and turned on a dime, something that reminded me of me. A determination to get to the bottom of something after it's been kept from you for so long. Like my demanding the rebel story from Haymitch after he extracted me from my second arena. However, she may be so like her aunt that she was able to see right through the secrets, put two and two together, and come up with the fact that both her father and her mother were more than just tributes in the Hunger Games.

Still there's no way she could know the whole story, so I keep pacing between the lake my father had brought me to so many years ago and the shelter where I played house in as a girl, trusting that my daughter will come. Six hundred eleven steps.

Looking back on my relationship with my daughter, I realize what I must seem like to her. Cold, cut off, and uncaring. It wasn't that I didn't care for her and her brother, it's just I had never even contemplated how to take care of children, none the less raise them. That had always been Peeta's department. But of course I loved my kids, as much as I loved my husband himself. But seeing as how I've come off to Prim before, it actually wouldn't surprise me if she'd rather stay home and make fish breading.

Suddenly, I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye with the quick peripheral vision that comes with years of hunting. There she is. Perched in the top corner and a common gigantic pine tree. I stop my pacing and turn towards her with my hands clasped behind my back. I raise my eyebrow at her, asking the silent question of if she is going to come down or not. In answer, Prim runs to the end of a thick branch about twenty feet in the air jumps off and gracefully swings from branch to branch, getting lower all the time, until she steps off into the air about five feet from the ground.

She landed with her knees bent and a soft thud on the bright green spring grass that surrounded the pond. Straightening up, Prim looked at me with piercing blue eyes that seemed much too insightful and penetrating for a twelve year old girl. After a moment or two of staring straight into each other's eyes, I motioned with my shoulder to the concrete house behind me. She follows me as I lead her to the bunker that once held so many of my family, friends, and neighbors after District 12's bombing. I sit down in on the right side of the empty fire place; Prim the other. She arranges her legs in to a criss-cross position and begins our conversation.

"Alright, go."

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! The buttons right there, you see it? It's blue and magical and it takes you maybe ten seconds to make my day!**


	4. Chapter 4

Katniss' POV

At my daughters brief introduction, my mind goes blank. How was I supposed to explain this to a twelve year old? I traced my finger through the thin veil of dust that covered the concrete bunker's floor, pretending not to notice Prim's intense stare. I sighed, there were so many parts to this story. I didn't even have a clue where to begin.

Stalling, I asked, "So, sweetie, what is it that you… know about the games? Exactly."

Expressionless, she repeated almost exactly what she had told me the other day.

"Hmmmhmm… and the revolution?"

"Oh, we talked about that in class the other day, let's see… after the 75th Hunger Games, District 13 came out of hiding and helped the other Districts out of slavery and to over throw President Snow, right? And then the leader of 13 was assassinated and there was a final games or something like that right? But I never got why there was a final Hunger Games. Doesn't that sort of go against everything that the rebels were going for?"

Prim stared at me expectantly.

"Good job, that's pretty much what happened," I decided to pretend like I didn't hear the last part about the final Hunger Games. "But we're here to talk about the last two Games, the ones your father and I were in."

I took a deep breath, then rushed into the tale before I lost my rhythm.

"When Aunt Prim was drawn in the reaping, I volunteered to take her place. There was nothing in the world I loved more than my sister, and I wasn't about to let her get killed off on live television in the most brutal way possible. A boy named Peeta Mellark was drawn along with me. At the interviews before we went into the arena, Peeta confessed in front of all of the entire nation that he… he loved me."

I couldn't help my blush, and Prim glanced away when I did. Probably embarrassed to think about us that way.

"Anyways, we were thrown into a wooded arena. That was probably the only reason I lived through the first half of the Games, you know how have some history with trees…"

Prim gave a little half smile at this. I took it as an encouraging sign and continued on.

"About half way through the Games, there was an announcement saying that two people could win if they were from the same district, so of course the next day I set out to find Peeta because he had been wounded."

"Your father was close to death for a really long time. So to… play on our sponsors emotions… I pretended to love him back." Prim looked at me with astonishment written clearly across her young fresh face.

"To keep him alive, of course!" I added quickly.

I decided to omit the part about Peeta being gravely injured to give me time to run away from a blood-thirsty Career, knowing that would bring on another awkward moment.

I also decided to not mention the killing off of the rest of our competitors, there was no need for my daughter to be forever scarred the way I was.

"The audience bought into it and got us the medicine he needed to save his life. We were known as the "star-crossed lovers of District 12" and became the favorites of the audience."

I checked Prim's expression again, but it had become an impassive mask. Similar to the one I wore when the Capitol still dictated my district.

"Once it was just the two of us left in the Games, there was another announcement saying that the rules had been checked again and in fact only one of us could fast, I pulled out a couple of Nightlock from my pocket, you know what Nightlock is right?"

She nodded.

"Good, so I gave one to Peeta and just as we had put them in our mouths, another announcement came on and declared us both winners."

"Later on, the President himself came to me and said that he didn't like how I had manipulated the Games to fit my ending, that the districts were rebelling because of it, and that if I didn't stop it, then it would be easy for him to simply kill off some of my friends and family members."

Horror began to seep through the cracks of Prim's delicate mask. I decided to try and wrap up the story as quickly as I could.

"So I tried, failed. Peeta and I were sent back into the arena for a victor's Games and District 13 interfered and got me out but Peeta was captured by the Capitol. Once we got him back, he didn't love me anymore and thought I was out to kill him. The rebels infiltrated the Capitol and overthrew Snow and I got Peeta back. The end. Any questions?"

The mask was back. Prim stretched her arms out as if she'd been sitting there for a long time. How long had we been here anyways? I glanced at the small, dingy window. The glass had shattered during the bombing and I could feel a slight breeze fanning my cheeks. Judging by the slant in the sunlight, it was probably mid afternoon.

"Just one for right now. So why didn't Dad love you anymore? What happened to him at the Capitol?"

I shifted uncomfortably. I really didn't want to go into this. This was one of the worst periods of my life, right up there with when my father had died.

"The Capitol injected him with a drug that made all of his memories of me streaked with terror. Kind of like I was the reason every single bad thing that had ever happened to him, and even those that actually didn't happen, were my fault."

To my surprise, Prim didn't seem disgusted by this at all, on the contrary, she seemed almost… fascinated.

"Alright then, I'll probably come up with some more questions on the way home," She sprang to her feet, she seemed full of excitement after hearing the whole truth after all these years. "You ready?"

"Yeah, sure, I've just got to check the traps. Get some fish for dinner tonight."

I made my way towards the lake, hating the crack in my knees when I bent down to mess with the immersed noose. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Prim looking at me, worry in her eye.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?" I answered nervously, this was sure to be one whopper of a question.

"So… Dad was the only person you ever loved, right?"

I hid my face under my arm and pretended to be engrossed by the task of sliding the slippery fish into my leather hunting bag.

"Of course, sweetie." I answered in what I hoped was a calm tone as I wrapped my arm around her.

I decided not to mention Gale.

**Cliffhanger! So I know its been forever but I'm trying to get back in the fanfiction groove, it was this chappie that was getting me stuck so hopefully things will start coming more easily now! Plus this is super long so I hope it makes up for it! Please R & R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry, quick. I apologize for the length of time between chapters. Please blame it on the stupidity of fanfiction and know that I have had this chapter for a long time and have just been waiting until I was allowed to publish it.**

"So you told her?" It was ten thirty later that night, both of the kids were sound asleep in their rooms of our house in the Victor's Village, and I was just now getting around to introducing the topic of mine and Prim's discussion to Peeta.

"Yes, I did." I looked down and saw my hands, clasped tightly together in my lap, and my feet, wrapped around the wooden legs of the large, plus, maroon chair I was seated in, and my legs, which were as taut as the rest of my body.

"And you didn't ask me to be present for this?" At this, I cast my husband a sideways glance. His bodily demeanor was somewhat close to mine, in a chair identical to mine, as taut as a bow that he had never shot. His question had caught me off guard actually, I had never even considered that Peeta would want to take part in the unveiling of our past to Prim, but now that I actually thought about it was obvious that I should have asked him to take part in this. Yet another marker that he was so much better than me.

"No, I didn't." I couldn't think of anything else to say. And neither could he apparently. We just sat there for a moment in silence, collecting our thoughts. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to speak first.

"I just… thought that…" Oh gosh what had I thought exactly? "That it was more of a mother-daughter conversation," I was just realizing the truth of these words as I spoke them. "You're always the emotional talker in our relationship, and thought that maybe it would mean more to Prim if it came from me." I thanked the Lord Almighty that I hadn't come up with this beforehand. Haymitch had been right in the statement he had made so many years ago: I always perform best when I don't have a plan or a script.

Peeta seemed to mulling my words around in his mind. "Alright, Katniss, I understand." And he did. I could see it in those honest blue eyes. I felt my entire body relax at once, and I grinned at him.

"So, what did you tell her?" Peeta had calmed down as well, and had slumped in his chair into a more comfortable position.

"Everything." I said with a breathy little laugh. "From the beginning of us to the… re-beginning of us." I smiled at him again.

He widened his eyes. "Did you tell her about how the Capitol captured me?" The idea was obviously horrific to him.

"Sort of. I didn't go into details." Peeta nodded his head, satisfied.

"So you pretty much told her... like... the story of us?"

"Coupled with the grueling interference of the Capitol, but yes." I reached across the small coffee table to grab his hand. His thumb rubbed soft and slow circles on the smooth skin of my wrist.

"Did you tell her about Gale?" He inquired with a teasing tone, but I could see past that. I wouldn't have been able to back when we were younger, but I had gotten to know him better and could tell that behind that joking façade Peeta was genuinely… worried? Curious? Anxious? Maybe I didn't know. The answer was the same either way.

"No, I didn't actually." I let my head fall back against the fluffy built in pillow of my armchair.

"Oh? Why not?" There was definitely some underlying tone in his voice.

"I just didn't think it was important. Why, is it important?" I picked my head up again, this time to shoot him an inquisitive look.

Peeta took his time answering. "No… but he was a big part your past right? I just thought it would something you would want our children to know about."

"They know about Gale." I said evenly, not wanting to start a fight with Peeta. And why would there be a fight? I was married to Peeta. I loved Peeta. He didn't question that. Did he?

"They know about your childhood friend. But do they know the other stuff?" His eyes were shut, but not in a stressful way.

"Does it matter? Or should I say, does it matter to you?" The leisurely circles he was drawing on my hand had stopped; replaced by a gentle beat drummed with the tip of his thumb on the curve of my wrist.

His eyes opened. "Of course not." He got up and kissed the top of my hair. "Are you ready for bed? It's been a long day."

We got into bed together, the same way we had so many countless nights on the trains back and forth between districts during our horrific tour: with me lying on his chest, and his arms wrapped securely around me. And just like those times, I couldn't help but wondering what in the world was happening between us.

**I'm almost done with the next chapter so it'll be up pretty quickly, probably by the end of the weekend! Pretty please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

"I just don't understand why she didn't tell me before hand." Prim whined.

She and one of her best friends, Neith, were eating underneath a maple tree just outside of the school cafeteria. The sky was an enchanting, forget-me-not blue, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The exact opposite of what Prim was feeling. If the weather was to react to her emotions, there would be dark purple clouds rolling around overhead to match her confusion. Or maybe random patches of sky to resemble when she was grateful of the story her mother had told her mixed in with miniature thunderstorms with streaks of lightning to symbolize her anger towards her mother for having withheld from her for so many years.

Neith tossed her apple into a high arc, attempted to catch it, and failed spectacularly. The two girls watched the fruit bounce across the courtyard and down into the gravel street.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Prim asked.

"Nah, it's too far away. And besides, it's all dirty. Anyways, what was your question?" Neith asked with a sigh, putting her fingers to her temple and rubbing them. The two of them had spent the last fifteen minutes dissecting everything that Katniss had told her daughter the day before. It was clear that Neith was done with this topic and ready to move on, but Prim was still determined for answers.

"I _said_, I didn't know why my mother didn't tell me this earlier. Did she not think I was ready, or… or did she not trust me or something?" A crease had formed between her eyebrows, pulling her grey eyes into a squint. "I mean-"

"Stop." Neith put her hand up into Prim's face, and Prim spit her fingers out of her mouth. "Ok, sweetie, this may just be me thinking out loud here, but do you think that might be a better question for _your mom_?"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

As soon as school let out, Prim tore off towards home. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. She waited for Gale outside of his class, _then_ they tore off towards home. She was determined for her mother to answer all of her questions, like Why did you tell me now? Have you told Gale? When are you going to tell Gale? Why did you have to tell me in the middle of the woods? Why wasn't Dad there? And are you sure there isn't anything else I need to know?

These thoughts chasing her around her head, Prim barely noticed when Gale stopped running. It was only after she realize that the irritating panting had let up did she slow down at all. And really all she did was cock her head over her shoulder and shout, "Come on!"

It was then that she saw what her brother was staring at. She saw just what had made him halt in his tracks. A car. And not just any old car, this was a _sports car._ The closest either of them had ever come into contact with one of these things was when they had both drooled over Gale's friend Martin's car magazine that he had gotten for Christmas. Before the revolution, Prim knew, there was nothing even automobile-ish in District 12. Now, there were a few pickup trucks used to haul coal around, but mostly people still preferred to get around the old fashion way. But this… this was most certainly _not_ a pickup truck. The brother and sister both took an unconscious step towards the beautiful machine, both of them admiring the delicate curvature of the jet black vehicle. They were in a trance. Neither of them had ever seen anything so… advanced. Surely this is what the tributes must have felt like when they had first seen the Capitol city. Gale reached out a chubby little hand to stroke the car's hood. Just as he was about to touch it, a smooth voice behind them drawled out: "So, I'm assuming you kids like my ride?"

**Meh, not really happy about that chapter… But_ finally showed up! Can you guess who _ is? I'll bet you can(: but really, please do review, they really do make my day and they honestly do make the updates come faster! **


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